


Letters Into the Past

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: Letters Home [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Is a Good Bro, Ben tries to protect Caleb by not revealing too much, Caleb starts to learn about the Assassins, Episode: s02e08 Providence, Extended conversation from Episode: s02e08 Providence, Gen, Mashing three sources together - AC3 - TURN - History
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4852556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An extended conversation between Ben and Caleb at the Connecticut camp when they find Hewlett's “grave.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters Into the Past

“So? Why don't you get that Indian you seem to be chummy with and decided to try to do a rescue attempt back at Bridewell?” Caleb nudged the black and white charred remains of a log that crackled and popped with still burning embers. “Didn't you say that you think the guy would help us with the Culper problem?”

Ben rubbed his eyes, the frustration at the situation giving him a headache. “I _tried_ ,” he said tiredly. “Sent a letter after we got back to camp asking for his help. Got a reply back saying he was somewhere between here and Boston which really means nothing because he can't be found.”

“What,” he glanced up and saw the most peculiar expression on Caleb's face as he absently nudged the charred log once more, “what's one Indian hard to find in between here and York City? I thought you knew him, Ben?”

“Caleb?” Ben frowned, staring at his friend with some puzzlement.

“Want to tell me what's going on, yeah? New agent that you're trying to recruit for this?” he gestured in between them and Ben worked his jaw a little as he realized what he was hearing in Caleb's voice. Jealousy...frustration, anger...

“Caleb,” he shook his head, “Connor isn't part of this. He's...” He paused for a second as he tried to figure out what was he wanted out of Connor versus what the Assassin had possibly consider giving him. Their ride to New York had been mostly in silence save for the brief spate of conversation regarding his father's service to the Brotherhood. Ben had only learned that Connor was part of the Kanien'kehá:ka tribe, which was in turn part of the overall Mohawk nation. His mother had died at the hands of assailants that had burned his village and he swore revenge on them and was sent to train with Achilles several years after that. Connor said that the Templars, the ancient enemies of the Assassins, had burned his village and since they were siding with the British, he would help the Patriot cause to ruin their goals.

Other than that, the rest of their ride to New York had been in mutual contented silence, each one of them sizing the other up. Ben had piece together the rumors and stories he had heard about Connor from others, while also taking into consideration the intelligence the man had gathered as well as what he had known about the Assassins as a whole. He had no doubts that Connor was doing the same to him as they had ridden. His rescue of Connor had been in the mutual hope that he would stop the plot to assassinate Washington, and with Thomas Hickey dead, the plot had been stopped.

The fact that Achilles' letter back to him said that Connor was somewhere in between here and Boston did not bode well for Ben finding him and asking him to help him in rescuing Abe. Nor did it do any favors to endear Connor to him. In fact, it felt more like a dead end than anything. And that was part of the frustration he was feeling. Washington's dismissal of him from camp at Valley Forge on the pretense of check troop status in Boston took up most of the frustrating hurt he was feeling. But now with Caleb looking at him like he had broken a bond of trust between them...

He shook his head again, hanging his head a little as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to alleviate the growing headache, “Connor's a dead end. I had hoped he would help us...but...”

“Why,” his friend stood near him with his arms crossed. It forced him to look up at him, squinting a little against the bright cold sun that filtered through the trees, but Ben was too mentally exhausted to stand up. “You want to tell me what's been going on these last few months Ben?”

Ben pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew he could easily deflect Caleb's question as his capacity as Head of Intelligence...or rather ex-Head of Intelligence considering Washington's ire. He could say that it was war time secrets. Caleb would understand the value of it and would not press, but at the same time Ben knew that he could not do that to his best friend. Not with what they both had been through – not with him pouring out his frustration to Caleb about Washington sending him away to Boston of all places for the winter. Not with the two of them agreeing to the beginnings of a plan that landed with Abe as their spy and creating the chain of intelligence that led to Washington's eyes only. No, Caleb had the right to know...

But Ben could feel it in his heart that he was not ready to tell his best friend everything. Caleb did have the right to know, but not the full truth. Not yet.

Not until he was sure of Connor, of the plot against Washington had been thoroughly neutralized, until he was sure that the shadowy force behind Charles Lee was what he feared – the Templars. He was afraid that if he brought Caleb into this new conspiracy, told him about the Assassins, he would end up dead like Betsy Andersen and the small group of Assassins at Yale. That he would end up holding the body of his friend and not-by-birth brother in his arms. Just because he had foolishly dragged Caleb into it.

Because he still remembered the words of wisdom his father had said as he had served the Assassins. _Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent_. Caleb was far from innocent, having shed blood like him, but he _was_ innocent from the ancient war that was between the Assassins and Templars. Ben was not formally part of the Brotherhood, declining membership, but he had no doubts of what had happened at Bridewell had more than likely piqued the Templars interest. If they were the shadowy power behind Charles Lee, then he would be expecting something from Lee. That was the threat he could see, but he had his suspicions that others lurked in the darkness. Intelligence from Anna's former house slave Abigail had already confirmed Lee as a traitor, but if Washington would not act, would not do anything, then he would try his best to root out and force Lee to show his true colors – even if it meant going through a more unconventional path and asking Connor and the Assassins for their help.

“No, eh?” Caleb suddenly said, “thought so...”

Ben realized that he had been silent the whole time he was lost in his thoughts and scrambled to his feet, ignoring the slight way his right hip caught the flash of pain from his nearly-healed wound. It had been aching since their ride here and the camp's doctor did say that he should not ride for a long time while it was still healing. But the doctor had also told him that when the aches and pains were gone, he could ride as much as he wanted to. He grunted a little and held up his hand to ward away Caleb's sudden look of concern.

“I'm fine,” he said, “and to answer your question, Connor is an Assassin.”

“Who got himself caught,” his friend stepped back as he righted himself, a bemused expression on his face.

“No, no,” Ben realized that Caleb had taken his word 'assassin' the wrong way, “I mean, he's part of a group that calls themselves the Assassin Brotherhood.”

“So, he's not an assassin?”

“He is,” Ben opened his mouth and closed it as he realized he had confused his friend, “look, he's definitely an assassin, but he's also an Assassin. They're a group of people who have their own interests, but right now seems like they're on our side.”

“Right...now...” Caleb said slowly with an eyebrow raised, “but they could change sides...?”

“They probably won't,” Ben shook his head, “but the thing is that they're like independent agents with their own goals. I sought them out since one of them actually got some intelligence off of Pitcairn that spoke of a conspiracy against Washington's life.”

“Connor? The Indian?”

“Yes,” Ben replied, “field reports said that Pitcairn was killed in action by some stray bullet or shrapnel while fighting on Breed's Hill, but General Putnam's report said otherwise. He thought he saw Pitcairn killed by a blade first before someone shot a bullet into the body.”

He had only glanced the report on Sackett's desk while the two of them had been figuring out which soldier had been telling the truth about the assassin that had sneaked into camp. The report was one of many that had been missing after the assassin had fled after killing Sackett. In hindsight, he had no doubts that was what had made Lee draw Connor into his trap in York City. It also explained why Sackett, of all people, had such a report amongst the intelligence gathered from scouts and sources that he did not know about. Since he had learned from Achilles that Sackett himself was part of the Brotherhood, it made more sense. Either Connor or Achilles must have asked General Putnam to send the particular missive telling him about Pitcairn's unusual death instead of putting it in his reports to Washington. He did not know what Sackett had planned to do with the report, but he suspected it might have been related to the ancient feud between the Templars and Assassins.

“That someone was Connor? He got close enough to kill Pitcairn like that?” Caleb blinked, surprised.

Ben nodded in agreement. He knew exactly what his friend was thinking. How could someone like Connor get so close enough to literally stab Pitcairn in the back or even throw a knife that far? Ben knew that Caleb's aim with his tomahawk was pretty accurate, but even so, Putnam's report spoke of a sharp single stab wound, not a broad slice like what an ax could do. The other thing was the escape. After visibly killing Pitcairn in the middle of his camp, Connor somehow escaped unscathed and even brought back the letter found on the man's body.

Caleb gave a low whistle after a few seconds, shaking his head in disbelief. “I would definitely not like to meet someone like him in the back alleys of York City or something.” A crooked smile suddenly worked its way up the corner of his lips, “Or probably yeah, definitely would. No wonder you thought he could be a help to the whole problem with Abe.”

“Someone who could go from visible to inconspicuous could easily get a man out of York City,” Ben shrugged, nudging the tail end of the log that Caleb had been kicking around back into its former fire pit.

“Yeah, but Benny-boy, you're forgetting, he got caught and you were thinking of breaking him out,” his friend pointed out, “it means he's not perfect-”

“Or that General Lee knows something we don't,” Ben muttered mostly under his breath before catching Caleb's quizzical look at him and shook his head, “Lee did say that he caught the assassin.”

“Lee knows this Connor?”

“I have no idea,” he half-lied. It was true from a certain point of view. He did not know what connection Lee had to Connor, but judging by Lee's speech during Connor's execution, he got the strong sense that the feeling was very mutual. The other thing was his suspicions of Lee and the seemingly shadowy power behind him, driving him to do all of this and betray Washington.

He saw Caleb give him a calculated look before nodding reluctantly, “I know you're still keeping something from me, but I'm not going to press, not now.” His best friend chuckled lightly, “There's a story there Benny-boy. I can hear it and see it. You don't normally go out of your way to bring someone in on secrets unless you know them. Maybe it's with this Connor, maybe not. Maybe it's with this...Assassin order-”

“-Brotherhood,” Ben corrected him automatically.

“-Brotherhood,” Caleb nodded once, “but since you're saying that you can't find Connor, we're going to have to think of something to get Woody outta jail, especially with Hewlett dead.”

Ben could feel the headache coming back as he rubbed his temple absently and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed, “With Hewlett dead, Abe's just a good as dead-”

“No...not really,” he glanced back up and saw his friend with a half-smile on his face, his eyes staring at something he was not seeing, “Sackett still has the Turtle back at Morristown.”

Ben blinked, “The what?”

“Come on, I'll show ya,” he grinned, “it'll be the easiest thing to get into York City and then Abe outta jail.” Ben followed him out of the decimated camp and back to their horses. Trust Caleb to come up with another solution. Maybe it was for the better that he not involve himself too much in the Assassin Brotherhood's affairs by asking Connor for his help. But he still could not help but worry about the shadowy power behind Charles Lee – he did not want to name them Templars, but he also knew that until he got a confirmation from Connor or Achilles, he would have to tread carefully.

 

~END~


End file.
